how could you make it feel whole again? // m.t. (via aetherrwrites)

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thatcuntwrites:

           “Warden, you seek to cure the taint, correct?”  A pause as she closes the book she had been studying.  “That is the rumor, regardless, and though I don’t know the extent of the Warden sacrifice, it seems a worthy endeavor.  Have you considered that BLOOD MAGIC may be a viable option?”

       “I have,” there is no shame coloring her words, no intent of masking her experiments. She had thought of blood magic and she had sought Avernus out. “I have been in contact with one who has been able to delay the Calling for centuries. With blood magic. But even he was not able to stop it altogether. His belief is that blood magic will remain at the core of a Cure, but that another catalyst will be needed.” After all, is the Joining not a form of blood magic? Had the Architect not employed blood magic to free its brethren. It would make sense for a cure to embody it in some way.

xxsparksxx :

“I do not trust someone who can lie that easily” she saw the irony in that, knowing she was just the same, if not worse, but he was certainly more skilled. She chalks it up to him travelling alone and being a mage, but that is not all. She can feel there is more.

She laughs in turn. “I’m an engaged woman now, I am allowed to such frivolities as dancing with my future wife in the hallways–” she admonishes playfully. She thinks upon it with such hope, and as something for just them and the closest of them. Those they traveled with.

“Speaking of Morrigan–” Leliana begins, taking a glance over to Emmailen, “Have you met Kieran yet?” she intones, curling her arms around her fiancee.

“You trust me,” the warden pointed out simply, knowing fully well how many masks and facets she had donned over the years. There had been many lessons taught to her by both her mother’s dead and Rilla’s grooming of her, but if anything they both taught one major lesson. Do what you must in order to survive; for her it had been lies and omissions, an innocent face hiding a turmoil of thoughts. Her years in the Circle had left her unscathed due to her uncanny ability to manipulate others into perceiving her as she wished. The nobles of the Amaranthine had come to accept her for similar reasons. Diplomacy, Varel praised her as yet another disgruntled noble left appeased. But it was no diplomacy, no inherent desire to make peace with others. It was merely self-preservation.

”He is better than us. He hides more and it has become natural to him. Quite like breathing. Even when it nags you at the back of the mind that what he is saying is falsehood, he has a way of twisting his words to make you believe. Almost like Flemeth.” The comparison makes her pause, frown on her features as she contemplates it. Quite similarly; Flemeth hides behind the facet of the mad old woman in the woods. Solas hides behind the facet of the solitary hedge mage.

Duncan nodded, his eyes dancing brightly even as his features sculpted themselves into a rather serious expression. “As ancient elvhen spirits often do.”

He chuckled then, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. “It suits you. It’s very clever of you, to learn such a thing, making you all the more versatile.” He had always admired those who pushed themselves to learn more. 

“There was a moment, during the Blight, when I ran out of mana and potions before we had run out of darkspawn. I had to resort to bludgeoning a genlock to death with my staff. It was terrifying and made me feel powerless so I vowed to find a way to transform my magic from a crutch to a tool.” 

She explained, not really sure why she was going into so much detail. She had only told Leliana this, whispered it in the dead of the night as they stood around the fire, small tremors still shaking her lithe frame. The sparks going out from the top of her staff, the genlock charging teeth bared, the feeling that she had failed. It had shaken her; when the spirit of the elvhen offered her a way to fight this weakness, there had been no doubt in her soul when she had said yes.

Oh yes, send the sightless to pester the very greatest of Ferelden. Cheeks had puffed out in silent protest. Why did they choose to send a blind girl to speak to people? To deliver messages? True, many did not make further inquiries of the blind. As she was certain her face was often a mask of confusion and displeasure at being questioned endlessly. None had attempted to shoot the messenger, though all had riddled her with inquiries she had no knowledge of. yet a simple please had sufficed to cajole the girl into the task. Black dress catching in the wind, hands dangling listlessly at her sides as she climbed the structure once more. She’d grown used to its heights. Bare feet able to count each calculated step, toes able to test the ground before it allowed the sole to land. It took little effort to reach the accommodations of the woman, fingers beginning to grip at the side of the loose garb in anticipation.

Knuckles wrapped gently against the wood, a moment passed. A sigh. Pushing the door open with a timid motion, Saskia announced herself before the door had fully given her identity away. “ I beg humble apology, My lady, but I was sent to make sure all is to your liking. ” Hands came to hold themselves shyly before her chest, a small smile on sweet lips. Remembering herself briefly, the woman gave a deep bow, skirts pooling about her as she did so.

“Please, no need to stand on decorum with me,” the warden gave a small, though strained smile. “I am simply Emmailen, or Warden-Commander if you would rather bother with titles.” She sighed as she spoke, the brief spark of annoyance snuffed before it could take root. 

There had been a reason for the ‘rumors’ of her disappearance, a reason why Warden Commander Surana had simply vanished one day, though the truth couldn’t have been more different. She had never truly disappeared, never up and left like it had been made to seem. But the starry eyed wonder had been wearing her down, the expectations heaped upon her shoulders. She had allowed herself to slip in the background, relinquishing her titles to Nathaniel and appearing to be just another warden like many others. Too few really knew how she looked outside her role. Too few spared a second glance for a knife-ear. 

The truth was well known among the Order of course, but the anonymity allowed her to travel and seek answers when the Calling first hit. And it had allowed her to come to the Inquisition without being tracked by Corypheu’s allies. However, it had all come to a stop at Skyhold. “The ambassador need not fuss on my account, but yes everything is to my liking.”

“Good” she replied to the PDA comment. “She acts as if we haven’t had to see her and Nathaniel…” Leliana makes a vague gesture into the air, “Do what ever they call their affection” she’s half joking. They’re sweet to each other and that’s what matters.

“Now… lets go home” Leliana insists, corralling Emmailen backwards some and towards their cozy apartment. “Do you want me to cook when we get home or should we reheat left overs?” she intoned. 

“Oh do not remind me. I had to help Nathaniel woo her before they got to the point they’re at now. Do you know how painful that was?” Between an emotionally constipated Dalish and a determined, yet clueless Nathaniel, Emmailen had found herself wishing to hit her head against her desk more than once.

“Reheat leftovers. We have some lasagna left and we’re both tired. No need to cook when neither of us will be in any state to enjoy the result.” They’ll probably fall asleep before the movie reaches its climax.